


An Exercise

by Elleth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Body-Chains, Extra Treat, F/F, Magic, Orgasm Delay, Power Dynamics, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 15:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: Some magic is altogether worldly.





	An Exercise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



> Your requests were gorgeous and inspiring. I hope this does them justice. ♥

The chain slopes like bird-wings over Galadriel's shoulders - not Melian's nightingales for her; an eagle picked out in golden chain-links on her skin. It chimes when she breathes, otherwise rigid and naked in a clearing - an exercise, said Melian, and Galadriel can feel her eyes through all the birds around on her, no hidden place unseen.

She knows well: A trial of her arrogance, to prove discipline, endurance, loyalty - Galadriel almost laughs. Compared to Helcaraxë, both Melian and Doriath are clement. A thrill, regardless, to muse on her reward: Melian's hands and mouth, magic that will spell Galadriel wide open.

*

Before long, expectation has her shiver; the chain-link wings chime a symphony. Almost the eagle would take flight, but it is itself chained: A collar, gossamer-fine and likewise golden, adorning Galadriel's throat, a brooch between her small breasts to loop the chain around over her ribs into a sort of pretty harness. 

Melian will come at dusk, hours on, and already Galadriel feels heat burning in her center, but may not move a muscle, must keep her fingers resting on her knees. She knows well: Only when Melian undoes the clasp, release is hers, and she still must earn it. 

*

Melian comes at dusk, as always, and her touch is enough for Galadriel to want undoing before the command is given, while Melian speaks of mastery and longing - she says, a vital lesson, and one that bears repeating over until Galadriel has learned it in heart and mind: Some magic is altogether worldly. 

Under Melian's full mouth, she lies suspended between her failure and completion. She knows well: To plead or touch herself is failure, at least of Melian's task. She breathes through praise and reprimand, denies herself friction against Melian's thighs. 

Then Melian whispers, "Fly," and undoes the clasp.


End file.
